


Quietus

by Jadesfire



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-30
Updated: 2010-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-08 12:39:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadesfire/pseuds/Jadesfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"I'm a doctor not a prehistoric vet."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Quietus

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://pwcorgigirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**pwcorgigirl**](http://pwcorgigirl.livejournal.com/) who gave me the prompt "Quietus" and asked for drabbles. Oops.

**Quietus**   
_1\. Final discharge or acquittance, as from debt or obligation.  
2\. Removal from activity; rest; death.  
3\. Something that serves to suppress or quiet._

The Hub's quieter without Jack. They still yell at each other, still have the radio on, or the latest CD that Gwen thinks they'll like (sometimes they do) but it's a different kind of noise. It's the sound of four people not talking.

They do their jobs, do them better, in some ways. No one's trying to impress Gwen, or wondering what on earth she's going to come out with today. No one drops random, cryptic pieces of information into conversations, and if Owen loses it sometimes or Ianto shouts back when they call for coffee, no one takes much notice. Even Myfanwy doesn't stir from her roost that much, so much so that Tosh asks Owen go up to check she's okay.

"How the hell am I supposed to tell? I'm a doctor not a prehistoric vet."

"Did they have vets in prehistoric times?" Gwen asks, not quite smiling, and Owen doesn't quite glare at her in return. The not-quite truce is holding so far, and if they're all holding it together with sticky tape and will power, no one cares that much. They've found a new rhythm to work to, one that doesn't need Jack to keep it going.

Not that Owen ever needed Jack in the first place, although he has to admit it would have been good to have someone to shift the pterodactyl checking onto. The man always seemed to think he knew everything about everything, and this would have been a damn good time to prove it. And even he has to admit that if anyone could have charmed a grumpy ancient avian, it would have been Captain Jack Harkness.

Ianto swears the ladder will hold him, but Owen still gives it a damn good shake before setting foot on it. They're on one of the upper catwalks, trying to probe the gloom with torches in the hope that Owen won't have to go up there after all. After a few minutes, Ianto's sceptical look turns downright annoying, and Owen gives up, rattling the metal steps one last time before carefully starting to climb. He can feel Ianto anchoring the bottom, as strongly as he can feel the other man's eyes on his back.

It's dark up here, for all that it's right by a bank of lights. Myfanwy's picked quite the spot, close to something that's giving off heat in waves, and tucked right in amongst the jumbled pipes and panels and wires that keep the Hub running. He can see her, just about, eyes glinting in the gloom. Since he's rather attached to his fingers, he doesn't bother trying to reach out, but he can smell that she's got food up here and she moves as he turns on the small ledge.

"Nothing wrong that I can see," he calls down. Ianto's face looks weird from this angle, the perspective too sharp and his skin too pale, bleached of colour by the lights next to him.

"Oh well, that's alright then." The sarcasm travels well, but Owen doesn't care.

The whole Hub is spread beneath him, their own private kingdom, a jumble of desks and computers and walkways, glinting from the hundreds of lights while other parts of it glow with their own energy. The pool of water is moving, ripples and reflections that seem oddly organic against the hard metal of the bridge and tower. It could be alive.

But even up here, Owen can feel the difference. Not just from where they've had to rebuild, from the new paint on the walls and the new plant lab that he couldn't believe Gwen signed off the money for. There's more than that, more to the sense of quiet than just a few interior design decisions. He lets his gaze drift to the far wall, where Jack's office stands empty and dark, abandoned in favour of the boardroom or one of the meeting rooms or the autopsy room or just gathering round someone's desk.

"Are you coming down this week or should I send up supplies?" Even from here, Owen can see the annoyance on Ianto's face and he waves a hand vaguely before turning and slowly starting to climb again, eyes fixed on where he's putting his feet. As he does so, he hears Ianto's soft gasp, and looks up from the ladder into a long, reptilian face.

Myfanwy seems to be inspecting him, turning her head so that she can look with one eye, then the other. Still gripping the ladder as hard as he can, Owen tries not to move, not even to breathe too loudly. It's easy to forget when she's swooping around the roof of the Hub that she's not just some overgrown bird. Right now, she's the ancient predator who could knock him from his own precarious perch with a sweep of her wings. Being this close to her is as strange as being toe to toe with a Weevil, and just as scary. She doesn't make a sound, watching Owen watching her, both of them silent and motionless.

For a long moment, it feels as though the whole Hub is holding its breath, waiting to see what her next move is going to be. Because sure as hell, Owen isn't moving a muscle right now. Then in the next instant she's gone, huge wings carrying her down towards the pool before she swoops up again, lost in the shadows on the other side of the Hub. Relief make Owen's head swim, and he leans on the ladder, trying to get his breathing under control enough for him to climb down. There's no chance of stopping his hands from shaking any time soon, and his heart is pounding as though he's run a marathon.

Ianto steadies him as he reaches the bottom, and Owen doesn't brush the hand off his shoulder right away.

"You alright?"

Running a hand over his head, Owen shrugs. "In one piece. Guess that'll do. Any chance-"

"I'll put a pot on." As though suddenly realising that they're still touching, Ianto gives his shoulder an awkward squeeze, then carefully lifts the ladder and starts to take it back along the catwalk.

Owen leans on the railing, listening to his own harsh breathing and the blood rushing in his ears. As he gets himself under control, he still feels jittery, as though there's more to come. Alright, it wasn't his closest brush with death, but it's going to rank up there with the most memorable. He's breathing more evenly now, managing to unclench his hands from around the railing and as he straightens up, he can see the whole Hub again, clearly this time.

It looks good. Brighter than before, and Tosh has done a lot to tidy up the computer arrangements so that it looks more like advanced technology than something out of a Matrix-style nightmare. Gwen insisted on putting more lights in, and Ianto's clamped down on the whole 'leave things where you want because Ianto will clean them up' approach to tidiness. It looks professional, even the plant lab with its heat lamps and climate controls. But it doesn't feel alive. That dark patch in the corner casts its shadow everywhere, as though the heart of the place has just stopped beating.

The Hub is holding its breath, holding on for the moment when it can spring back to life. It's dormant, stuck in some awkward place between alive and dead. It's waiting to have someone breathe the lift back into it, and none of them can do that.

Clenching his fists, Owen resists the urge to hit the railing, settling for striding along the catwalk fast enough to make it shudder. It doesn't matter if the Hub's too quiet or if everyone's ignoring the elephant in the corner. It can damn well stay in the corner as far as he's concerned. They've learnt their lessons, they're doing their jobs. Alright, Gwen's doing Jack's, and Ianto's job description seems to be expanding daily, but mostly, they're doing their jobs. They're doing fine. They don't need Jack.

They're fine.

 


End file.
